


The Man Who Never Smiles

by mephistopheles



Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen, Uryu-centric, with a hint of melancholy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1837840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mephistopheles/pseuds/mephistopheles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ishida Uryu, the child with the hardest life.  Events in his life happen, but nothing really changes the way he feels.<br/>Set after an accident, this story shows the inner-workings of Uryu's mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man Who Never Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> this story is uryu-centric, and is set right after the end of the Hueco Mundo arc.  
> it assumes that the Quincy return arc (I can’t seem to recall the name) never happened  
> disclaimer: I own nothing but my use of the English language, all credit to Tite Kubo for Bleach  
> if you would like me to continue this work and publish more chapters, please say so

I was drowning.  It was that simple.  I wanted to laugh at myself, all the pain and pride of being the last Quincy, ended in a fall.  I was numb and could not feel anything besides my own disappointment.  The sea swirled around me, indifferent to me.  It was a dark blue and then nothing but the black.

 

My eyes drifted open to bright light.  I assumed I must be in Seiretei, because that is where the deceased go after death.  I felt lighter and more fluid; my muscles untense and my mind clear.  However, as I attempted to sit up, I felt the waves undulate underneath my body.  I truly opened my eyes to the blinding light and saw.  I was surrounded by an azure lake that stretched on past the distance of imagination.  The waves crested and fell around me, and all was calm.  Something was not completely right, but I felt as if I did not care.  I inhaled, inflating my chest as far out and then slowly exhaled.  I could feel the presence of another.  It did not feel human, or Shinigami.  It was massive and powerful, and I had absolutely no idea what it could be.  I outstretched my hand and felt it move with my motions.  It seemed the best time for some booming voice to tell me that this was all fake, that I was in hell and would stay there the rest of my life.  That would suit me just fine.  Instead, my body started to tense up again and my head started to spin.  I felt water-logged.  The blue vision of sea turned black, and I coughed out a lung of water.  I sat up, and all kinds of pain went through my head.  A strong man’s face floated through my vision.  I could hear murmuring in the background.

            “He is one lucky kid.  Hundreds of people fall of that cliff a year, and a record few survive.”

            “Hell of a streak.  I should get him to bet on tickets!”

            There was an outbreak of laughter, and a small man who stood near me kneeled down.

            “Hello, sir.  We just rescued you from drowning.  Would you mind answering some questions?”

            I shook my head.  “I feel alright.”  My hoarse voice cracked out.  I coughed, trying to make it better.  “What would you like to ask me?”

            “I just need your name, city of residence, and if you wouldn’t mind, the reason for us having to rescue you.”

            I laughed internally.  They probably thought I was a suicide jumper.

            “I am Uryu Ishida, from the city of Karakura, and I came too close to the edge and the cliff caved in.”

            He jotted all the information down.  “Thank you sir.  I have to write up one of those reports, you know, long boring stuff.  Would you like a blanket?”

            I looked long and hard at the blanket.  “Yes, sir.  Thank you.”

            He handed me the blanket, and I wrapped it around my shoulders.  “Be careful around cliffs.”

            I curtly nodded.  “I will.”

            Once I was out of their sight, I used Hirenhyaku to jump into the festival ahead.  My wet yukata dripped around me, slowing me ever so slightly.  I jumped on top of stalls, criss-crossing to the nearest available one.  Finally, I was out of the loud, celebratory area.  I sat down for a moment, leaning against a sakura tree.  My heart beat fast, out of time with the stillness of nature around me.  I turned slightly, and put my palm on the sakura tree.  It may have been a trick of the night, but I would swear that I saw the flowers open before my eyes.  I moved my heavy head around, and jumped again.  I moved along the tops of trees until I saw the dim lights of Karakura.  I sped up, nearly dashing when I was near the Kurosaki clinic, and not slowing until I got to the north side.

            I opened the door to my shabby apartment.  The cheap furniture and copious books shone in the bright moonlight.  I hated nights like these.  They kept me awake and reminded me about things I never wanted to think about ever again.  I stripped myself out of the drenched yukata, and attempted to towel off.  I pulled on some clothes, in the dark, it did not matter if they matched.  My feet slid across the moderately warm floor.  It was stuffy in the apartment, but I could not open my windows because of the mosquitoes.  I unceremoniously laid myself down onto my hard mattress.  I closed my eyes, and tried not to think.

            When I woke up the next morning, I was grateful we were on vacation.  I felt sore, and my body ached all over.  I felt my glasses still on my face, albeit skewed.  I laid there for a long couple of moments, and stared at my ceiling.  I had nothing to do, no homework from school, and no hollows to fight.  I just wished I had something permanent; something I could say defined me.  I used to say “On the pride of the Quincy”, but ever since losing my powers, I have never felt confident in saying that.  I know I am not a regular high school boy and I missed enough school that the title does not apply.  The best I am able to come up with, inevitably, is the fact I am a male human being.  I do not like saying that, because it is the most non-descript thing I could say.  There is nothing to me, I know.  I will be the same as I always have been, a bitter, resentful, human being. 

            As I laid there, on my two-cent mattress, nothing happened to disturb me.  I felt it was late; the neighbors must have already left for work.  I slowly, very slowly, inched myself up off the mattress.  I had to scrunch my eyes closed, and a rush of blood went to my head.  This dizziness is something that I hate.  I am always affected, and nothing I do about it has helped.  I inhaled and shuffled my feet across the warm floor, towards the kitchen.  I always have kept the place well stocked in case I ever really need to eat, but I rarely need as much as I have. 

            After my warm breakfast, I headed out to the market.  I was getting low on my supply of milk, and most importantly, rice.  I dressed myself in appropriate attire, and hopped down the stairs outside of my apartment.  Now, the market was not that far away if I used Hirenhyaku, but that involved not been seen.  It was a nice enough day, so I decided to make the far walk along the river.  I always tried to stay towards the far left side of the road so I would not be noticed. 

            When I walked, I never stopped to think.  I attempted at keeping my mind quiet, and hummed a soft tune in my head.  I thought it was by Janacek, but I was never quite sure.  So my walk passed quickly and I fortunately did not run into anyone I knew.  I entered into the cooled paradise of the Hirohyaku supermarket and grabbed a small basket.  What I needed was small enough to carry, but I always preferred the stability of a basket. 

            By the time I was ready to check out, I had a quart of milk, a small bag of rice, and a couple assorted spices I planned on using.  The cashier was friendly and I tried to reciprocate the kindness but I felt there was something left to be desired.  I left, the grocery bag in my right hand.  I felt a small pull toward the river, but disregarded it as atmospheric pressure. 


End file.
